


What's Coming To You

by taichara



Category: Batman (Comics), Jem and the Holograms
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-06 01:18:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1100733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taichara/pseuds/taichara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It pays to do a little research about your targets, really it does.  Some folks are better at remembering that than others --</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's Coming To You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kalloway](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalloway/gifts).



_She got what?!_

 If there was one thing that Pizzazz hated more than being told 'no', it was seeing that wretch Jerrica Benton succeed at anything.  And oh, how she'd succeeded this time -- it was all over the papers and the networks, and it made Pizzazz's blood boil.  How?  _How_ did the simpering, bland wallflower ever catch the attention of Bruce Wayne?

  _It's not like she's his type, that's for sure._

 For the zillionth-and-one time this afternoon (or that's how it felt, at least) the tv trumpeted Jerrica's little success story:  Bruce Wayne, though his Wayne Foundation, had gifted Benton's little orphanage of lost little girlies a grant that would lift them free and clear of their monetary difficulties and would be making said grant official at a dinner and dance hosted by Wayne Enterprises that very night.  Which, of course, meant the heat was off of Jerrica and her feeble little band for the time being. 

 Spitting a string of curses that could blister the paint off the walls -- to say nothing of horrifying her father -- she threw the first thing that came to hand, a baroque glass vase, and smirked with satisfaction as it shattered against the television screen before stalking from the rec room.

 The dinner would be crawling with reporters, of course; it was going to be the talk of the town.  With just a little nudge, that could be taken care of.

  _We'll just see if I can't tarnish her pretty little present._

 

-*-

 Another night, another soiree, and another instance of dressing up all swanky in order to put on a good show.  Luckily for all involved Dick Grayson had no problem with any of the above, even less so when it was for a cause he could appreciate, which was why he was back in his bedroom at Wayne Manor putting the last touches on his suit.  Predictably, of course, Jason had popped up like a bad penny to needle him about being late -- among other things.

 "You came all the back in from NYC just for this, Dick?  Does Kory know you're here to see all the ladies --?"

 Ignoring his half-secured tie, Dick mock-growled and made as if to swat.  Jason danced out of range, grinning like a fool, and plunked himself down on the old oak desk; virtually in the same moment his expression sobered, and Dick lifted a brow.

 "So you gave that up fast enough.  Something on your mind?"

 "Yeah, kind of.  Do you know anything about the Starlight Foundation?"

 "It's under the same umbrella as a music label, if that's what you're getting at.  I didn't know that was your kind of music, Jason, that's kind of cute."

 "Yeah, yeah, whatever.  What I'm getting at is stupid bad luck seems to follow this Jerrica Benton around and it mostly has to do with the music end of things but not always, and it's usually wrapped up in this other band and their label.  I don't really care about two girl bands bitching at each other on video shows, but this time it's different."

 Dick tugged his tie into place, expression thoughtful. 

 "Talked to Bruce about it?"

 "Yeah, actually, which is why this's more of a heads-up than a conversation."

 Jason grinned, a glint in his eyes that promised trouble in someone's very near future.

 "It's not just my age keeping me out of this little shindig, let me tell you."

 

-*-

 Jerrica heard a lot about Gotham in both lines of work, little of it good.  On the one hand, there were the endless stories of how kids just seemed to fall through the cracks; and then there was the violent, almost riotous crowds that flocked to every concert within the city limits.  She didn't much fancy being onstage and wondering whether or not an unhappy or even overexcited fan happened to be carrying a knife, or worse ...

 But all of that felt miles away as she took in the breathtaking vista spread out in front of her.  The entire top floor of the soaring skytower seemed to be made of mammoth glass windows -- no matter which direction she turned in, she could see Gotham, all baroque black silhouettes picked out with the warm glow of a million lights, and it was beautiful.  She hardly noticed the murmurs of the other guests, or the pleasant music being played, the sight was simply too amazing.

 "Looking out there makes it all seem worthwhile, wouldn't you say, Ms. Benton?"

 Bruce Wayne, even more dashing in person, seemed to have materialized at her elbow as if he was one of Synergy's holograms.  Quickly Jerrica covered her startlement with a small cough and glanced swiftly back towards the window. 

 "I don't know if I really follow, Mr. Wayne ...?"

 Accepting a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, he offered it to her politely before explaining, a hint of a smile on his face, and for a moment Jerrica had her doubts about his reputation as a lightweight playboy.

 "Pardon me, I'm being a little obtuse.  It must be all the excitement.  What I mean is, looking out on a view like that, it reminds me that even here in Gotham there are things -- and people -- who make it all worthwhile.  And if I can bring a little more of that into people's lives this time, and a little less of the edge Gotham's known for, well ..."

 The smile turned into a little laugh and a hitch of his shoulders; the moment was gone, and he was suddenly simply an amiable philanthropist again.  Steering her by her elbow, he pointed out a small group of excited chatterers that looked to be centred on Kimber, Aja and a dark-haired young gentleman with an easygoing smile.

 "... It looks like your sister is hitting it off well with my former ward.  Let's go be nosy for a moment, shall we?"

 

-*-

 It was almost too easy.  Stupidly easy, even.  All he'd had to do was lurk around in the false ceiling for a while and wait for her to up and oh-so-casually excuse herself for the night -- hard to miss her even in formal wear, with that green hair -- and wait for her to find a chance to fish her cordless out of her bag.

  _Not hard to tell she's used to places that don't know what security is.  I'd just call the cops except this's going to be too hilarious._

 Of course he'd made sure she was recorded.  Bruce could decide what to do with that bit later.  Right now he was just waiting for her four goons (disguised as caterers, how predictable) to get to wherever they were planning to cause their petty little mess.

  _The fire control system?  Really guys?  Foam and water all over the place, that's it?_

 Grinning, he dropped through a ceiling panel on top of the lead goon, springboarded off him as he hit the floor and roundhoused the second, ducking when the third threw an amateurish punch.  This wasn't going to take long at all --

 

-*-

 "Hi there, Ms. Pizzazz.  Welcome to Gotham!  Too bad you picked the wrong party to crash."

 The last -- the absolute last -- thing Pizzazz expected to see in her hotel room was a stocky teenager perched on her bed in eye searing green and red and yellow bodysuit and hideous shorts.  And the elf shoes.  And the mask.  And --

  _What --_

 -- and her minions, trussed up like turkeys at the foot of the bed.

 "You stupid idiots --"

 The kid, cocky smile plastered across face, crossed his arms and all but beamed, holding up a minirecorder.

 "That was the wrong thing to say, by the way.  We call that admitting guilt here in Gotham.

 "See you on the news ~"

 -- And he was gone, nothing but the drapes billowing in front of a now-open window.  In the hall Pizzazz could hear the distinct sound of booted feet approaching fast.

 What kind of city was this anyway?!  It wasn't _fair --_!


End file.
